


paper strips

by sunsetveins



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, I think that's it - Freeform, M/M, Patrick is confused, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, and alex, and frank, and mark, and people, and scared, and spencer, gabe and travie, like kellin, ryan is mentioned, there's a lot of mentioned relationships, they're all mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetveins/pseuds/sunsetveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is very confused and slightly terrified. Pete is just trying to be creative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	paper strips

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year for Valentine's Day. It seemed good enough to post. I don't know.

Patrick knew something was up the minute he caught Brendon Urie staring at him with a strange gleam in his eyes from across their shared music class. 

He'd been doing so for about ten minutes, somehow still playing the piano flawlessly to the tune of something unrecognizable. It made absolutely no sense and Patrick was more than a little freaked out about it.

He and Brendon have spoken before, kind of. They'd done a couple songs together once as a collaboration project in class. They had conversations about music and vocal ranges and "does this note sound better or should I go higher?" That was all, though. They'd never really interacted otherwise. So why would Brendon be staring at him with that look in his eyes like he was waiting for the earth to just open up and swallow Patrick whole?

It didn't stop until class ended about twenty minutes later, but then it got extra freaky.

Brendon Urie, friend of Pete Wentz and boyfriend of Ryan Fucking Ross, came up to him with the biggest smile Patrick has ever seen on any human being ever and handed him a piece of paper.

A piece of paper with the word "My" on it.

"Wha-" Patrick was met with Brendon Urie being nose to nose with him as he tried to speak, effectively stopping whatever question might have fallen off of his lips.

The grin never fell off of Brendon's face as he stared Patrick dead in the eyes, blinking with a thick flutter of innocence. They stayed like that, Patrick never daring to so much as breathe, for maybe a minute before Brendon suddenly twirled away and began skipping out of the empty band room. 

It took a few seconds to get over the shock, but when he did Patrick stared down at the strip of paper tightly clutched in his hand. 

Nothing made any sense.

-

A week later, the incident almost completely forgotten, something odd happened again. This time, it was during Algebra. 

William didn't stare like Brendon did, but he did talk. He talked a lot. He talked loudly and quickly and - wait for it - directly to Patrick. 

Patrick had never once ever spoken to William Beckett. They sat on opposite sides of the room and never interacted. William was quick and out there in ways that Patrick could never be. They weren't meant to clash. 

Yet, when Patrick sat down in his seat, William was sitting in the desk directly beside of it. The boy who usually sat there - possibly named Ronnie if Patrick payed enough attention to know - was across the room in William's seat. He didn't look bothered at all, and William was more than eager to talk Patrick's ear off about numbers and food and the different names his friend's all called him. (Will, Bill, Bilvy, etc.)

He liked William, don't get him wrong, but Patrick was sure he was going to explode if he didn't get some quiet like, yesterday.

When the bell rang, William's chatter ceased finally. Patrick breathed a sigh of relief but then, before he could even exhale, William was slotting his lips with Patrick's as quickly as possible and pressing a strip of paper in his hand. He left almost as swiftly as he'd leaned down, leaving Patrick with a fuzzy mind and no motivation to move ever again.

His lips were soft and left Patrick feeling more than intoxicated, but once everything wore off and he was in the hallway and heading towards his car, it occurred to him that he should be anything but calm.

He wasn't out. He didn't know William. He liked someone else. Oh, and William was in a relationship with Gabe and Travis.

What. The. Fuck.

The paper screwed with him, too. A messy "Will" being scrawled over it. 

What is his life right now?

-

Never in a million years did Patrick ever think anyone would recite poetry at him.

Especially not Mikey Way.

But, low and behold, here he was in English with Mikey Fucking Way standing front and center reciting a poem while - oh, would you look at that? - staring Patrick down.

The poem wasn't soft or sweet. It was brutal and mean. It was sadistic in ways Patrick never knew poetry could be. Fuck, what did he do to Mikey? Exist within his general vicinity?

"-and your limbs would meet mine-"

Holy fuck, is this getting sexual?

"-in a flurry of movement, you would be gone-"

Murder? Or a climax? Please, help a Patrick out.

"-that was for him, my brother in arms, and I would do it again-"

Definitely murder, then.

"-I'm not sorry."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Holy fucking mother of Way shit.

His stare is intense and it helps nothing. It might have been somehow less intimidating if he wasn't the brother of Gerard Way, who was the boyfriend of Frank Iero. But he was. And fuck, did Patrick hate his life as of late.

There was another forty five minutes of class left, which was probably another forty five minutes of death stares if Patrick was guessing, but it seemed he was wrong.

As Mikey passed him to go sit down, he stopped for a moment and slid something towards Patrick. It was crinkled and ripped on the sides. The writing was elegant, almost frustratingly so, but written like the person had pressed down as hard as possible while writing the one word on the paper. "You."

For the rest of class, the whole forty five minutes, Patrick stared down at the paper. He barely blinked, barely breathed, even though he could hear Mikey and some junior mucking about in the back like nothing in the world had happened. Like Mikey hadn't just broken Patrick's mind into a million pieces.

When the bell rang, Patrick dragged himself away from the desk and the classroom itself. He held the paper tightly in his hand, like it might disappear into the atmosphere were he to let go of it in the slightest. It joined the others in his locker, all stacked on top of each other on the top of his unused Astronomy book. 

What the hell was going on?

-

Brendon was weird. William was freaky. Mikey was downright fucking terrifying.

But Jack Barakat was by far the worst. 

The encounter was simple. So simple that Patrick could cry. But it was the most confusing because of that. Because it was simple and kind of normal and nothing horrible or weird really happened. 

It was just,

"Hey, Patrick."

"Hi, Jack?"

"Listen, Alex wants you to say yes."

"I don't think I understand."

"Alex wants you to say yes. Okay? Okay. Have this."

Then Patrick was handed another strip of paper with a simple "Be" written on it and a little heart drawn in the corner and colored in light blue. Jack was walking away before anything else could be said and Patrick was left alone in the hallway with an opened locker and a shit ton of confusion.

Brendon was weird. William was freaky. Mikey was the most terrifying experience of Patrick's young life. But Jack Barakat was the worst.

Jack Barakat was confusing.

-

Nothing made any sense once so ever for the rest of that week.

Patrick was constantly being stared at by people like Alex Gaskarth and Mark Hoppus. Kellin Quinn winked at him yesterday and Spencer Smith taught him a few things on the drums. His life was completely haywire.

Then February 14th came and absolutely nothing happened.

Until lunch happened.

At lunch, the cafeteria was pilled high with red and pink. Hearts and chocolate covered everything was everywhere you looked. You couldn't breathe without feeling like you were suffocating in Valentine's Day.

Even the more scene type kids, who included the very group of people making Patrick's life a confusing mess, looked like they were drowning in the spirit of love.

There was a band and they were playing love songs. Halfway through some cliche vow to love someone forever, there was tap on Patrick's shoulder.

He turned around to see Brendon, William, Mikey, and Jack all in a line. A different order from their weeks of confusion, they stood with the paper's they had all given him.

And at the end, slightly stood in front of where the line they had made was, was a sheepish and shaking Pete Wentz.

Holding a piece of paper saying "Valentine?"

It took Patrick about 30 seconds to catch up, but eventually he realized that when you put the words together it said, "Will You Be My Valentine?"

He would've fallen over if he hadn't noticed the entire lunch group staring at them.

"Well?" Pete asked, voice shaking and eyes flickering to his feet every other second.

"I-" Patrick began, words failing him completely. He shook his head, kicking at the ground.

"Are you- is this- I, are you being serious?" he managed to get out. Pete nodded immediately. 

"One hundred percent serious. Completely. I would never joke about this, never ever. Bilvy might kill me if I did."

Patrick stared, almost like he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do. Which, he kind of was. That's just if he's being honest though.

"I- then. Yeah, yes. Of course." 

Pete's grin nearly killed Patrick. That is, until his arms were full of Wentz and Brendon was bouncing right beside of them, screaming about a wedding and which churches he hasn't been banned from yet.

Nothing made sense, but by now Patrick wasn't sure if he cared all that much.


End file.
